Alone With Death
by Yay Ninja Bob
Summary: COMPLETE. ...I pounded on the door with the little strength I had left. By that time, I had absolutely no more feeling left in my hand, as well as half my body... PLEASE REVIEW!
1. The Mystery Of My Imprisonment

**Alone With Death**

_A fanfic from the slightly disturbed mind of the Californian who hates California._

Chapter 1: The Mystery of My Imprisonment

I felt numb. My head was pounding and it took a long time to realize that I was lying on the cold ground. I felt my cheek pressed against the smooth, cement surface of the floor. I slowly lifted my head from the ground and discovered that it was pitch black all around me. "Where am I?" I mumbled to myself, "_Agh_!" I screamed as I felt a sharp stinging coming from the back of my head. I gently touched the spot with my finger tips. It was bleeding. I pulled my aching body up from the ground, straining my eyes to see, but it was too dark.

I stood there, not daring to move. I was too scared. Where was I? What happened to me? "_Hello_?" I called out, "_Anyone_?" Shut up, Stan! What if there's a maniac in here that wants to kill you? I quickly covered my mouth and looked side to side, which of course was useless, because I couldn't see shit. It was so fucking dark and I could feel my heart beating faster and faster in my chest. This black surrounding gave me the most frightening feeling ever. Crap… what if I wasn't in a dark room… what if I had gone blind? _Holy shit! _I strained my eyes to see once more, but it was just darkness. I couldn't be blind… how the fuck could that happen?

I touched the wound on the back of my head again. I was knocked out? Yeah… yeah, I remember that…

It had been another long day at school. As Junior Class President, I'm one of the first on campus and one of the last to leave. That day I had stayed after school to review the profits our class had made during the week of Basketball Homecoming. When I was done with that I had to go talk to my coach. Football season had been over for quite some time, but he still bugged the crap out of me about my grades. I left his office and saw that Kenny was just down the hall. He glared at me. We hadn't been talking to each other for almost a year now. He thought I was some sort of traitor after being elected.

I walked past him down the hall, pretending that I didn't notice him and he did the same. I went to my locker to get my math book before I left for home. Cartman was there. Times had change since the fourth grade. I never really talked to the fat kid after elementary. He closed his locker, which was just a few lockers away from mine, and walked away not saying anything, like he had done for the past five years.

Walking down the halls, I could hear our high school's band practicing. I heard the jazzy solo of a saxophone player. It was Kyle. I smiled as I listened to the familiar sound. My grin slowly disappeared when I was reminded of the argument the two of us had just the other day. I'm sure he was still pissed at me for not attending his last performance.

The band's music slowly faded away as I finally reached the student parking lot. "Hey! Hey! Whaddya say? It's S-P-H-S!" I could hear the cheerleaders chanting. I looked up and spotted Wendy practicing with the rest of the girls. She saw me and winked, continuing her chanting, "It's S-P-H-S!" Amidst all her clapping and stomping, she was able to blow me a kiss, and I did the same. She winked at me again and I smiled at her. I had to get her some flowers or something… she was absolutely the best.

I finally reached my car and was shocked at what I found. My tires had been slashed. "Son of a bitch!" I yelled kicking the airless rubber. I started walking off the school's campus. I walked fast. I had to get home and explain to my parents that we needed to call tow truck because some bastard slashed my tires. When I was trying to decipher who would do something like that, I felt an immediate jolting pain on the back of my head.

And now I was here in the dark. Where was I? And who was keeping me here? And _why_? I stood completely frozen. I had to move. I couldn't just stand here forever. My heart was beating so hard and so fast I could hear it. I took a deep breathe, trying to shake off my fear. I closed my eyes tight and took one step forward. Holding my breathe, I waited for something to happen… nothing. I opened one eye, then the other. It was still dark as hell.

I stretched out my arms in front of me and continued to inch along forward. With each tiny step I took, my heart increased its tempo. At long last my finger tips finally touched something. I jumped back, imagining it to be a person, but it was only a wall. I felt along the wall, trying to feel for a light switch. I felt a crease. I ran my fingers ran along the line and I discovered that it was a door. I tapped on it gently. It was metal. I knocked loudly, "_Hello?_" I yelled. There was no answer. "_Hey! I'm in here_!" I screamed, "_Somebody! I'm in here!_" I pounded on the door until my hands throbbed with pain.

I thought that I heard something move behind me and I quickly whipped around. With all my might, I tried and tried to see something… a_nything_. I turned back around and continued to beat at the door, "_Help me! My name is Stan Marsh! **Please**, get me out of here!_" I was now throwing my body against the door with every bit of strength I had in my body, "**_Please! Let me out!_**"

Finally there was a sign from outside. On the other side of the door I heard footsteps approaching me. I took a step back. The sounds of the footsteps grew louder and louder, as whoever it was got closer and closer. Then they stopped just on the other side of the metal door. I heard something gently sliding and then the footsteps came again, this time their volume was decreasing. The person was leaving.

"**_Wait! Let me out! Come back!_**"I screamed, "**_Please!_**" I pounded on the door, but stopped when I felt my foot slip on something. I knelt down and felt for the sole of my shoe. It was a small piece of paper.

I bet there was something written on it, but there was no way I could read in absolute darkness. I slid down the door, falling onto the ground. I was out of breathe from screaming so loud and my hands were sore. I sat there staring in the direction of where I thought I heard something. Maybe it was just my imagination….

I stood again. There had to be a way out of this place. The door was definitely not going to open, so there had to be another way. I pressed my hands against the wall again, my right hand still clenching the little piece of paper, and felt my way along the perimeter of the mysterious room in which I was imprisoned.

* * *

So how is it so far? Interesting? Boring? Should I continue? Please review! 


	2. Kenny McCormick's Grudge

**Alone With Death**

_A fanfic from the slightly disturbed mind of the Californian who hates California._

Chapter 2: Kenny McCormick's Grudge

Sliding along the cement wall I discovered that the room I was in was rectangular. I made my way back to the metal door and to my disappointment, I did not feel any alternate escape out of the cement box. I began to sweat heavily as extreme panic came over me. What if there was no way out? What if I was going to die in there? I slammed the metal door over and over again with my fists, "_Let me out! Let me out!_"I screamed. I continued doing this until I could no longer feel my hands. I switched to kicking the door until I could no longer feel my feet. I fell on the ground crying hysterically, "**_Let me out!_**"

This was it. I was going die in that dark place. I was left to rot to death. I lied on my side, my back pressed against the metal door, and cried myself to sleep.

When I woke up, for a split second, I completely forgot what had happened and where I was. The pounding in my head served as a reminder. I sat up and stared at the metal door. I was staring right at it and yet it took me the longest time to realize that light was piercing through the cracks of the door. The light was dim, but it was just enough so that I could see my own nose. I looked at my right hand which was still clenching the little paper. I held it close to the light and squinting my eyes, I was able to read, "You are not coming out." I turned the paper round and round, searching for some sort of clue, but that was it. I threw the paper angrily on the ground, "**_You can't do this!_**" I screamed, "**_You gotta let me out of here!_**"

I tried to peek through the cracks of the door. I could only see light. I turned back around and faced the rest of the room. Who would do this? …I bet it was the bastard that slashed my tires… They set me up. But why? What did I do? It had to be someone at school. Someone that hated me, obviously. Who hated me? As soon as I asked this, the image of Kenny glaring at me popped into my head.

* * *

I still remember the last words Kenny ever said to me: "Fuck you." Coincidently, those were my last words to him. It was a Saturday and Kyle, Kenny, and I were hanging out at my house, just messing around and watching TV. Kyle and I sat on the living room couch, while Kenny lied on his belly, stretched out on the floor. I told the two of them that I was planning to run for an office for the junior class. 

Kyle's eyes widened with excitement, "Dude!" he grinned, "You'd totally win!"

Kenny rolled his eyes, "What're you running for?"

"Well, Wendy thinks I should go for president…"

"I agree," Kyle said sitting up in his seat a little, "You're sure to win."

"Oh, _now _I see," Kenny said, "Wendy. Should've known it."

Kenny and I stared angrily at each other, "It was _my _idea to run."

Kenny flicked his long, blonde bangs out of his face, "Sure," he replied sarcastically.

"Hey," Kyle said wearing a concerned expression as he looked from me to Kenny and back at me, "You guys… don't start again…"

"What's your problem, Dude?" Kenny said sitting up.

"What's _my _problem?" I half-laughed, "What's _your _fucking problem?"

Kenny stood up from the ground and I stood up, too, "You're always doing this shit!" he yelled taking a step towards me.

"What _shit_?" I asked taking a step towards him.

Kenny smiled wickedly, "Don't play dumb." I clenched my fists as I tried to contain my anger. Kenny took another step forward, "We got plans to see a movie, but _Wendy _wants to go _shopping_! You go shopping! _Wendy's_ got a cheer competition! Forget Kenny's soccer match! She needs you!" Kenny was so close our noses almost touched.

"Dudes!" Kyle yelled, now standing.

"_Wendy_ wants you to quit baseball!" he continues, "Because she thinks it's getting in the way of your _relationship_! You quit! Fuck your team! Fuck Kenny! Fuck Kyle! The only thing that matters is that you're fucking Wendy!"

Kyle was silent. Kenny was silent. I was silent. I was too fucking pissed to say anything. Kyle walked up to Kenny and touched his shoulder, "Calm down, Kenny." Kenny pulled away from Kyle, without taking his angry stare off me.

At that moment, my cell phone rang in my pocket. "Hello?" I answered.

"Hey!" Wendy said cheerfully on the other end.

"Hi… Wendy…" I said. Kenny shook his head, glaring at me.

"Can you come over?"

"…Sure."

"Good! See you soon!" and she hung up.

I hung up my phone.

"Fuck you," Kenny said brushing past me.

"Fuck you," I returned as he walked out the door.

* * *

But Kenny couldn't have done this? …Could he? I sat leaning against the door. The touch of the cold metal made the gash on the back of my head feel so much better. I licked my lips and they tingled a little. They were dry and chapped. I was thirsty. I was hungry. Shit, how long could I survive without food? Without water? Wasn't it supposed to be like seven days? Crap… I needed to get the fuck out of there. 

I waited for Kenny to open the door. I was sorry that I yelled at him. I was sorry that I made him feel like I was betraying him. I waited for him, but he never came.

And then I heard it again. That noise that I heard the other night. My heart began pounding in my chest violently. It was just my imagination… Only my imagination, yet I could not tear my eyes away from the blackness which was home to the strange noise.

It sounded like sliding… like something was moving on the floor… Maybe it was just a rat or something. Yeah, a rat…

At long last, I stood up. What was the use of just sitting there? I had to explore every inch of the room. There _had _to be a way out. All that I had checked was the walls… what if there was a trap door or something in the middle of this place? I _had _to find a way out, or I would die in this place. Plus, if there was something else in the room, I wanted to find _it_, before _it _found me.

I looked behind me at the door. The amount of light had lessened. Was the sun the source of light and it was now setting? I turned around and faced the darkness once more, took a deep breath, but before I could lift one foot off the ground, I was frozen after suddenly hearing the jazzy melody of a saxophone player.


	3. Kyle And The Saxophone's Song

**Alone With Death**

_A fanfic from the slightly disturbed mind of the Californian who hates California._

Chapter 3: Kyle And The Saxophone's Song

I stood there, with my jaw dropped. It couldn't be. It just couldn't… I listened intently to the saxophone's music. There was only on person I knew who could play like that, but it couldn't be who I thought it was… It was! Kyle was here! He came to save me! I started beating on the door again, "Kyle! Kyle! Help, I'm in here! Kyle! Dude, over here! Can you hear me? Kyle! Kyle! _Kyle_!"

The saxophone's music continued.

"Kyle, come on, Dude! Kyle, I'm trapped! _Kyle_!"

Kyle kept playing.

"_Kyle!_"I screamed at the top of my lungs. I was starting to cry a little, "_Kyle! Help me! **Kyle!**_"

He was ignoring me.

I continued to hammer at the door, "**_KYLE!_**"

Kyle kept playing.

"**_KYLE! PLEASE!_**" I cried with one last pound on the door, "_Aghhh!_" I screamed with pain. My hand was sore. It was bleeding. I could barely feel it. I started to use my feet to kick the door. Then I started ramming my elbows into it. Then my shoulders, my back, and then I did the stupidest thing I had ever done… I banged my already injured head against the door, knocking myself out.

When I woke up, I swore I heard Wendy's voice, "Stan…Stan…_Stan_…"

My head was throbbing with the most agonizing pain ever, "…Wen…dy…?"

She was there. She was leaning right over me. I blinked, "Am I dead?" My voice was weak and dry.

She giggled a little.

I sat up and looked around. I was still in the dark room, but she was there. She was with me. No light came from the door, and she was by my side, glowing like an angel, "I'm losing my mind…" I said staring at her.

She laughed again.

I just stared at her, "Wendy…"

She smiled at me, "Are you okay, Stan?"

I shook my head, "Nah… I think I'm gonna die in here…"

She laughed again.

"Wendy," I said turning to survey the room again, "I--"

She was gone. I really was hallucinating. I let myself fall back down. I lied there staring at the black ceiling. Was there even a ceiling? Shit, my head hurt…

I don't know if I fell asleep, or knocked out again, or what, but when I woke up I could hear the saxophone playing again. I scrambled to the door and sat there letting the little rays of light hit my face, "Ky-" my voice cracked. I cleared my throat and tried again. I opened my mouth, "Kyle!" I could barely hear my own raspy voice.

What if the music was all in my head? What if there was no saxophone? What if there was no Kyle? But it had to be. Kyle was out there. He wasn't letting me out. Could my best friend be behind all this? Oh… that's right… we hadn't been talking for the last two days…

* * *

I met up with Wendy as soon as her cheer practice was over. I was supposed to give her a ride home that day. She greeted me by jumping into my arms and I carried her as if she were my bride. 

"You're going to come with me to see my baby sister's ballet recital tonight, right?" she asked as the two of us held hands walking down the halls of South Park High.

"Of course," I answered.

She stopped in front of me and took my hands, looking deep into my eyes. She wanted me to kiss her. I could just tell. I leaned in, and pressed my lips against hers. She held my shoulders, as I held her waist. Her tongue swirling with mine brought on the greatest sensation ever.

"Uh…" I opened my eyes, pulling away from our kiss, I saw Kyle standing there. "Uh…" he repeated, his face a little red.

"I'll meet you at the car," Wendy said giving me one last peck on the lips, "See you later, Kyle!" she said skipping past him.

Kyle waved at her and then approached me, "Hey, Dude."

"Hey, what's up?"

"Uh, I was wondering if you could do me a favor and take some pictures tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yeah, you know at the concert."

"Concert?"

"The band concert."

"Oh shit!" I exclaimed, "Dude, I totally forgot!" I frowned, "I swear, it completely slipped my mind," I paused, "Uh, I… I can't take pictures."

Kyle frowned as well, "Why?"

"I…I can't go… I'm sorry, Kyle! I kinda promised Wendy--"

Kyle nodded, still frowning, "Right. I understand," he turned and began to walk away.

I caught up with him, "You're not mad at me, are you?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"…You are mad…"

Kyle kept walking, not saying anything. He reached his locker and I stood there watching him angrily shoving his books in the compartment. He pulled out his saxophone, neatly put away in it's black case. He looked down at the instrument and then at me, "Wendy's waiting," he said slamming his locker and walking away.

"Kyle!" I said once again running after him, "Come on! I'll try to make it to the concert before it ends, I--"

"Forget it, Stan. Just forget it."

That night I tried to rush out of Wendy's six-year-old little sister's recital in time to make it to Kyle's concert, but when I arrived, almost everyone was gone. I saw Kyle just before he was going to board the school bus with the rest of the band members. "Kyle!" I called running up to him.

He stared at me, still wearing that frown he was wearing the last time I saw him.

"How'd it go?" I asked trying to be friendly.

"You wouldn't know, would you?" he said boarding the bus. I stood there and watched the bus drive away.

* * *

I know Kyle was upset with me, but he would never do something like this. At least, I hope he wouldn't. Maybe it was a joke… He was just messing with me. Any minute now, he would open the metal door and reveal himself. He would laugh. I would laugh. Everything would be alright. 

I sat there in the dark, already laughing to myself. It was just a joke. Kyle was just messing with me… But Kyle never opened the door. Kyle _did _know that I felt bad, right? He knew how sorry I was about missing the concert, right? I wanted to go. I really did. But I couldn't break a promise to Wendy. He understood, didn't he?

I stood up, once again preparing myself to explore the mysterious, black room. The saxophone was still playing as I took step after step. It felt like the room was endless, as I walked, waving my arms in front of me. Finally, I felt my foot hit something. It was relatively big. I knelt down and felt around.

"**_Holy shit!_**" my injured voice screamed as I jumped back, falling to the ground. It was a body. So help me God, it was a _human _body! I was petrified with terror. There was a fucking body in here! What felt like hours later, I finally gathered up enough courage to touch the lifeless thing again. Who was it? How long had he or she been dead? Did this person _just _die? Was this the source of the noise I heard earlier?

I felt the torso. It was a guy. I searched for the face and found it. I tried to think of every person I had ever met before in my life, trying to match what I felt with what I remembered. And then I felt it. The hair. There was no mistaking it. It was curly and soft, shaped like a large puff ball. It was Kyle.

* * *

Hello, just thought I'd let you all know that chapter 5 will be the final chapter of this story. I know that this is a short fic, but I CAN'T WRITE LONG STORIES! I just can't. They'd get too boring and I'm afraid I'd lose the suspense. Anyway, you might also note that after this story I probably won't be writing or at least posting anything for about a week. Standards tests and AP tests have left me forever in FREAK-OUT MODE for a few days now, so I kinda need to calm down and study. I do have an idea for my next fic, but it's just an idea, and not all ideas work. Also, if the ending's sort of confusing I'm sorry. I don't like this fic as much as my last two... I dunno... what do you guys think? Thanks for reviewing! Bye bye! 


	4. Eric Cartman and the Senior Class Presid...

**Alone With Death**

_A fanfic from the slightly disturbed mind of the Californian who hates California._

Chapter 4: Eric Cartman and the Senior Class President

I screamed and screamed until my voice was completely gone. I held Kyle in my arms, feeling his hair, face, and body, hoping to discover that I had made some sort of mistake. But it was Kyle, and he was dead.

Kyle had a wound in the middle of his forehead. It was what was responsible for his death, I'm sure. Who did this? Why? Why did Kyle have to die? _Why?_ I continued to weep, cradling Kyle in my arms.

"Stan?"

I looked up. Wendy was there again. I stared at her. Her angelic, white glow illuminated the area around me. I could now see that it was indeed Kyle in my arms.

"Why are you crying?" Wendy asked.

I opened my mouth, but I was unable to talk. My voice was gone.

She smiled at me, "Its okay."

I wanted to slap her. How could she think everything was okay? Didn't she see Kyle dead in my arms? Didn't she see that I was trapped and dying in this dark place?

It was almost as if she could read my thoughts. She frowned at me, "Stan, don't you trust me?"

I slowly nodded my head.

She walked over to me and sat by my side. The two of us stared down at Kyle. She rested her head on my shoulder. She felt cold, almost as cold and chilling as Kyle did. "When are you coming out?" she asked.

I looked at her. I couldn't. I was trapped.

"You can get out," she said standing up.

I shook my head.

She smiled, "I know you can. And then we'll be together again. Don't you want that?"

I nodded.

She blew me a kiss and disappeared, leaving me in the dark once more.

I stared at the spot in which my girlfriend had just stood. She was so real… but she couldn't be real. She was outside, and I was in here. Extremely exhausted and tired from all my crying and yelling, I fell asleep with Kyle still in my arms.

When I woke up, the first thing I did was get back to the metal door. It was weird. In that pitch black and sinister place, there was sense of hope that came from that door. I didn't want to leave Kyle. I knew he was dead. I knew there was nothing I could do, but I just didn't want to leave him. I dragged him back to the door with me. I knew it was stupid of me, but I half-expected Kyle to wake up as soon as we reached the sanctuary. But he remained lifeless.

The rays of light that seeped in from outside were enough for me to notice something in my friend's hand. It was a piece of paper. I pulled it from his grasp and unfolded it. It read:

_To Stan -- Amen I say to thee, thou shalt not come out from thence till thou repay the last farthing. (Matthew 5:26)_

Why did Kyle have it, but it was addressed to me? Unlike the first note, this was written in fine cursive and gave off a lot more sophisticated aura than the first note. I almost thought that they may have been written by two entirely different people, but that was insane.

It was from the Bible. Obviously Kyle was not responsible for my captivity, and Kenny was hardly a religious person… Who did I know that was religious, yet crazy enough to do something like this? The president of our school's Fellowship Club, Eric Cartman.

* * *

The last time I _really _talked to Cartman was years and years ago. We had never really considered each other friends, and so we just stopped hanging around one another. But it was probably just little over a week ago when I last spoke to him. 

I was in the ASB room at school and classes had ended maybe two or three hours earlier. I was just sort of hanging out, doing my homework, while waiting for Wendy's cheer practice to be over. Andrew, the senior class president, walked in with Cartman. The two of them seemed to be arguing.

"You can't do this!" Cartman complained. He looked really angry.

Andrew shook his head, "That's the policy, Dude," he plopped down on a chair, "Sorry."

Cartman stared at him, still wearing an enraged expression on his face. He spotted me, "Stan, you agree with me, don't you?"

I was at first shocked that the fat kid still remembered my name, and then confused about what he was really talking about, "Uh, about what, Cartman?"

"Eric," Andrew began, "Is upset that the Fellowship Club is not getting any donations from the school this year."

"We have thirty-nine members!" Cartman exclaimed, "The policy this bastard is talking about says that we need--"

"Forty," I finished, "So you don't qualify."

"Yes, but the cheerleaders got _their _money, and they only have thirty-nine students in their organization too! That's bull shit!"

"Dude, the cheerleaders got a donation?" I said looking at Andrew.

Andrew sat up in his chair, "You have to understand, Eric. The cheer squad's numbers change a lot. As soon as spring hits, they're going to have a lot more competitions, and a lot more girls are going to be joining."

"So there's an exception for them and not for us?" Cartman yelled, "That's not fair at all!" he looked at me again, "Stan! Do something! You're a friggin' officer don't you have a say on this?"

"Well," I looked from Cartman to Andrew, who sat there shaking his head at me, "The school's policy says--"

"That you need forty members in order to get the money," Andrew stood up, "Sorry, but the Fellowship Club is not qualified."

"Wait," I said. Andrew glared at me.

"Excuse us," the senior said to Cartman, and then he pulled me aside.

"Dude," I whispered, "If the cheerleaders were able to squeak by the rules, then the Fellowship Club should--"

"Stan," he whispered harshly, "Organizations like the Fellowship Club are a complete waste of school funds. Come on, Dude, use your head. What the hell could they possibly need the money for? I mean, what the hell do they even do? They sit around and read the stupid Bible!"

"What they do shouldn't--"

"Stan, this money shouldn't be thrown away to a club like that. We could use it for a lot more useful things. Like those new uniforms your football team was looking at last year. Now, isn't that a lot more productive than what those freaks will use the money for?" Andrew gave me a pat on the shoulder and turned back to Cartman, "Sorry, but we won't be able to give your organization any money."

Cartman stood there, his face red with anger. He looked at me, "Thanks a lot, Dude," he said coldly and left.

* * *

It made sense. Cartman was pissed that I couldn't give his club any money and now he sought revenge. That son of a bitch. The paper said I wasn't going to come out until I repaid my last… farthing? What the fuck was a _farthing_? 

But what didn't make sense was Kyle's death. Why would he kill Kyle? He didn't do anything. And the music… it was still playing. The saxophone was still out there. How could Cartman be responsible for that? The fat fuck didn't know how to play the saxophone. Maybe it was recorded… But why would he be playing something like that?

It didn't make any sense, but Cartman was my best guess at that point.


	5. Freedom Isn't Free

**Alone With Death**

_A fanfic from the slightly disturbed mind of the Californian who hates California._

Chapter 5: Freedom Isn't Free (lol… I couldn't resist. Didn't TAWP kick ass? )

I spent a long time sitting there thinking things over. Of course, there were a lot of things, that no matter how hard I tried, I just could not explain. I tried my voice again and it was back. It was incredibly weak, but it was there. I pounded on the door with the little strength I had left. By that time, I had absolutely no more feeling left in my hand, as well as half my body, "Cartman… are you out there?" I called out in my sandpaper voice. "Cartman... I'm s--"

"Stan!" Wendy called from behind. I looked at her and she rushed to my side, "Stan, I thought you wanted to get out! I thought you wanted to be with me!" she cried.

I frowned, "I do..."

She shook her head, "Stan, you don't understand do you?"

I shook my head, "No… I don't know what a farthing is…" I showed her the piece of paper in my hand and she grabbed it from me. When she touched it, it turned to ash. "…Woah…" I stared at her, dumbfounded. There was no way that was really. There was no way she was real. I started laughing.

"Stop it!" she screamed.

"You're not real…" I said, "Jesus Christ, I'm dying…"

"You don't remember, do you?" she said.

"Remember what?" I asked, not expecting an answer. There was no answer to any of this. I was fucking dying and I'd never now what I did to deserve it.

Wendy sighed, "You don't even realize what's happened. My poor Stan…" she reached out and brushed my face with her cold fingers, "It's not important," she smiled, "I think you're free to go, as long as its with me."

Suddenly, the room filled with light. A red light. It was like fire. I looked, and on the other side of the room, there was another door that came out of the ground. Flames shot up out of it.

And then I saw it. I saw what really happened.

* * *

I saw myself walking out of the school gate, shortly after discovering my tires had been slashed. I walked along the front of the school, in the direction of my house. Some twenty feet behind me, I could see Wendy. She had tears in her eyes and most of her makeup was ruined. She held something behind her back, but I couldn't see what it was. She walked quickly, nearly catching up to me, and then from behind her back, she pulled out a gun. With one shot in the back of the head, I witnessed myself fall to the ground dead.

There was a scream from behind, and I saw that it was Kyle. He started running towards Wendy, screaming, "**_You fucking bitch! You fucking bitch!_**" over and over again. She turned and fired at him. A bullet struck him in the forehead and he fell backwards.

Wendy placed the gun at her head and pulled the trigger.

* * *

I was dead. Wendy killed me. I stared at her in disbelief, "Wh-Why?"

She frowned, "Come on, Stan," she said pulling me to my feet. She tugged for me to follow her, but I stayed where I was.

"Wendy… I'm dead? Wh-what is this place?"

"It doesn't matter!" she said smiling, "Just come with me now," she took my hand and began leading me to the fiery door.

"Why did you do it?" I asked as we nearly reached the door.

"Because she's a bitch!"

I turned around, and Kyle was there. He was standing over his own body, his saxophone in his hands. Behind him, the metal door was open and bright, white light came from it.

"Kyle…" I stared at him, not believing my eyes.

Kyle gave me a weak smile, "Dude, come on."

"He's coming with me!" Wendy yelled, "That was the plan! That's why I had to do it! I'm not going to lose him here, after all I had to do! We're going to be together forever! "

"Stan!" Kyle called out, "Come on, Dude. You can't go with her!"

I looked at each of them. I was so confused. "I…I…"

"Stan, you said you'd always be there for me," Wendy said.

"Stan, she's crazy! She killed both of us and herself! Stan, come on!"

Wendy pulled me again. We were at the door. I stared down into the pit with wide, frightened eyes. It was Hell. Wendy was dragging me into Hell. I looked back at Kyle. He stared at me with a panicked face.

"_Stan!_" he pleaded, "_Stan you can't go with her! There's no turning back once you go in!_"

I looked at Kyle. He was crying. I was crying. I didn't want to leave him, but I didn't want to leave Wendy.

"_Stan!_" Kyle yelled again, "_Stan, if I could I would pull you away from that bitch, but I can't! Stan, you have to let go of Wendy on your own! **Stan, come on, Dude!**_"

I wanted to go with Kyle. I didn't want to go to Hell. I didn't want to leave Wendy. She was so beautiful. She was so… perfect. Wendy pulled me into the fire, and I didn't let go. I just followed her, right into the depths of Hell.

The End.


End file.
